Paynnful Finesse
by Farore's Howl
Summary: One shot Moordryd/Artha fic. So Moordryd thinks that Artha has no... finesse? Rated T, depending on feedback might make it M for safety reasons.


**Hey guys, sorry I haven't updated Valentine Sponsor in so long. I've just hit a complete dead stop in the story line and until I can get off my lazy rear I won't be updating it for a bit longer still (that and I've been catching up watching cartoons that I missed as a child). So here's a Dragon Booster one shot for you guys, thanks to the said cartoon marathon. That and there's just not any DB fics out there with Artha and Moordryd. So here you go, I'll keep it light for those who don't like my very detailed smut. I don't own shat, but if I did *evil snickers ensue* oh... there would be no whiny female love interests for the fans to hate on... So enjoy, and again apologies for being a lazy little... yeah... And yes, Moordryd really needs to do something about his unibrow but just try to ignore the pure white caterpillar that died across his forehead!**

If there was one thing that Artha hated more than anything in all of Dragon City other than failing as the Dragon Booster, it was losing to Moordryd in a race because the fair haired Dragon Eye leader would always come to gloat after. He hated that snide smirk that the other teen wore around Artha and his racing team, mostly because whatever insult that came out of his mouth always scraped Artha's scales for days after. Lost in thought, Artha didn't notice that they had company until Beau nudged his shoulder and practically forced the raven haired teen to turn in order to see his arch nemesis sauntering up to him. Suppressing a groan as he watched Moordryd whisper something to his right hand man Cain, Artha braced himself for the insult that he knew was coming.

"Nice race stable brat, give it a little time and you'll be good enough for the Academy... to clean up after my dragon." He sneered at the raven haired youth, earning a scowl and a comment about him cheating. Moordryd never fought fair, and Artha Penn of all people should know this first hand. Releasing a snort, Moordryd turned and began to stalk away from the stable brat's pathetic crew only to realize that Cain was dawdling behind. Turning and catching his friend staring at Kitt Wonn with an expression akin to a whipped puppy, he growled and snapped at the other Dragon Eye before walking away without checking again to see if he was being followed by the other.

"That guy really scrapes my scales... If I didn't know any better, I'd say his ego was bigger than his dragons behind!" Artha's little brother Lance piped up from Artha's side, making the other three dissolve into giggles. Out of the corner of his eye though, Artha cast a thoughtful glance towards the snow-haired teen, ignoring Beau behind him who was rolling his eyes and knowing tonight would be another late night.

_That Night_

The two figures twisted together in the shadow, partially hidden by a familiar blue and red scaly rear end and a more graceful and light violet one. Artha pressed Moordryd into the wall a little harder and stole feather light kisses from the other's protesting lips. Moordryd shivered and growled at the raven haired, trying to bite down on his lip when Artha went to kiss him again.

"Don't get cocky stable br-" He hissed angrily, interrupted mid-insult by another heated kiss from the Dragon Booster. He couldn't even remember when this had happened, when it all began. Maybe it was after the Penn brat's gauntlet and his own reacted to each other, and the knowledge that they would one day join together and fight side by side? Something had changed that day, in the way Artha looked at him after the battle. It made him feel... Shaking himself from the thoughts, he realized that Artha was already reaching for the zipper on his pants. Hissing at him and gripping the white racing jacket hard, Moordryd shoved him away with a heated glare. "Do you have any sort of self restraint? I know you have no finesse given how you race your dragon, but honestly!" He sneered, unable to be nice even when they were being... intimate? No! That was **not** what they were being right now! They were... doing stuff, that was all.

Artha glared at him and Moordryd could practically feel the anger coming off the Penn boy in waves. Swallowing visibly, Moordryd pressed himself back against the wall of Penn stables and tried not to break eye contact even as the pompous smirk slid off his face.

"You want to see finesse you royal Paynn in the dragon tail?" Artha said in a tone that made Moordryd shiver all the way down to his toes even though he wanted to laugh at the ridiculous use of his last name.

But the humor was gone instantly when he felt the firm, slightly chapped, and warm lips of Artha Penn on his own, pressing and molding against his and prying his tight jaw open with gentle assurance. The moment there was enough space, Artha slid his tongue into Moordryd's mouth and massaged the other's own tongue in a coax to come play. Eliciting a moan from the ruthless Moordryd Paynn was as much of an ego boost as getting words of praise from his father, and at least this one was enjoyable to strive for. All the while, Moordryd fought back against him in an effort to attempt to get away, but forbidden kisses with his foe made his heart beat as hard as it did out on the track, and the knowledge of what could follow after made him squirm with anticipation.

Artha broke the kiss momentarily in order to breathe before he lowered his head to attack Moordry's exposed neck in order to suckle at the tender and impossibly pale flesh there. At least the other's racing jacket would cover up the marks, much to his disappointment. Artha pressed closer to the pale and slim teen and gently eased his knee between Moodryd's, shushing him when the other went to protest. He wanted finesse, and Artha could never turn down a chance to prove himself. Sliding the zipper to Moordryd's pants down, his hand slipped inside before the other could stop him and curled around the throbbing heat of Moordryd's desire. Clapping his free hand over the pale boy's mouth when he began to make too much noise, Artha twisted his wrist and stroked Moordryd into a shaky and mewling mess that clung to him for dear life. With a rough stroke and a slight tug, Artha smirked when he felt Moordryd shatter in his arms, and without a word he removed his hand and pressed another kiss to the younger Paynn's lips again. Suddenly the urge to giggle overwhelmed him and he snickered at the other's expense.

"W-wha... What are you laughing at... s-stable brat?" Moordryd said, his breathing heavier as he descended from his orgasmic high. Glaring at him, he watched the Penn brat lift his hand and display the mess Moordryd had made on his hand, an image that made the fair haired teen blush furiously.

"Nothing... just realized that you're fast on the track... and even faster off it." Artha said with a triumphant smirk, yelping when he barely dodged the mag ball thrown at him from a positively _livid_ Moordryd Paynn. Grinning cheekily, Artha grabbed Beau and shot off, leaving the other youth to right himself and give chase, unaware of a certain red headed 10 year old boy staring horrified out into the night with a jaw dropped in wait for the proverbial flies, his once innocent mind corrupted from that day forth.

**Yes, I had to add that end bit. Why? I just wanted to, and I realize that it would have been perfectly fine without Lance getting utterly traumatized, but where's the fun in that? I wrote this as much for my benefit as for yours, my darling readers. Mostly because when I'm watching a show with that much raw material for a fanfic, and then coming on here to find none with those two characters... well that just won't do. So here you go, the first ever Moordryd/Artha fanfic on the site! Don't you just love/hate/tolerate me?**


End file.
